


Tree-Brother

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, ToT: Monster Mash, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Daurin Tórin is tree-brother.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



Daurin Tórin perceived our beauty when he beheld us, and our mother Yavanna, hearing good of his work on trees in soils in the faraway, darker lands, appointed him to our care. We adored him as one of us, for in his green eyes shimmered silver veins, like my brother’s leaves. 

He snipped our leaves when they had grown old and troublesome, and collected from us our blessed offerings for the peoples of the sacred lands. And to he, our tree-brother Daurin, we conveyed our language, to whom else we never taught. The rustles of leaves he learned had meaning, the shaking of branches, the rumbles in our trunks. That he could repeat back to us, slow, patient, earthly like us; he was a child not of stars that Varda had cast with her light, unlike his sister Míriel who could spin with thread, but the soft and sturdy soil below. 

In this tranquil serenity we lived for many tides and turnings until a shadow fell over us. There was no elf nor Vala to defend us, for a celebration presided a distance away, leaving us to face with the jaws of a gigantic spider. She pierced my brother and myself, her bite instantly felt to the tips of our leaves. But in that moment our tree-brother ran to our rescue, though he was unarmed save for a machete he had been using for some bushes several yards away. He was no match for the great shadow before us, and as poison ran through my brother and I, we witnessed our brother fall, red cast over our feet before my brother’s silvery light went out, his anguish so great upon seeing Daurin that he gave in to the monstrous spider. 

They left us with nearly nothing. The Valar and the elves came and mourned, and all the while my brother and I could just barely touch our tree-brother’s shoulder. Someone else had come to take the last of what we could offer, and we both knew we could not live much more after. I felt my brother weep, and I caressed his leaves with mine, whatever I could reach and whatever strength I could muster, to comfort him. 

When the mourners at last left, we turned to the body. They would take him back, but he was never one of theirs. 

Come, tree-brother, come, we called weakly as our roots wrapped around your body and pulled you to the ground. We would sleep together, as one, as our weakened spirits weep our wounds caused by pincers and senseless hate. Sleep, brother, sleep. It is warm in the soil and you are cold. Sleep and hurt no more, dear Daurin.


End file.
